Still Want To
by toonsta
Summary: "You still want to kiss me though right?" Rose and Scorpius make it up as they go along... sometimes with questionable success.
1. Third Year

**AN:** This story should be done in around 6 parts... I'm a terrible updater usually, so I waited a while to publish this. I have 2 more parts written and I'll post those if there's interest in the story. Feedback is wonderful, I'll love it if you leave it! (Special thanks to Caity for listening to this and encouraging me to post for the first time in forever!)

**Disclaimer:** Hogwarts and all it's inhabitants belong to J.K Rowling.

**Chapter 1: Third Year**

They are in third year the first time it happens. It's one of those indecisive spring days when the sun shines for a short while and then the clouds open and there's a shower of rain. It's the kind of day on which everyone gets caught in the rain without an umbrella at least once. It's also a Hogsmead weekend. She and Al and Scorpius spend the day rushing in and out of shops between showers and splashing muddy water from puddles at each other. They, like the rest of Hogwarts, end up in The Three Broomsticks. Once there Al begins a heated discussion about the Holyhead Harpies with a couple of Hufflepuff fourth years and Rose begins to doze off into her Butterbeer.

"Up late again Rosie?" Scorpius's voice in her ear jolts her awake.

"Hmmph… Herbology essay." She replies, propping her head on her hand and tilting it to look at him. "And Professor Longbottom has dinner with my parents every few weeks, so I get crabby letters from mum if I get anything below an E."

"Guess there are some perks to having a father who's an outcast after all!" He jokes. She snorts in acknowledgement, then bumps his elbow with her own; a wordless response to the edge of bitterness in his voice.

"Can we get out of here? I can't listen to any more of Al's fanatical raving." She asks yawning.

They're halfway back to the castle when the rain begins to fall again. A fat drop of water runs down the bridge of Rose's nose and they set off at a run. Their sneakers and the bottom of their robes get soaked by the mud puddles they are no longer careful enough to avoid. They burst into the castle laughing and gasping for breath just before the rain sets in properly. Her damp hair is making its best attempt to curl out of its braid and his shoes squelch with every step. They just reach the top of the staircase when they hear Filch's wailing. Scorpius curses and pulls her into a nearby bathroom.

"Clean up!" He urges her, "If he finds us muddying his floors the old man will have us polishing trophies for weeks." He is jabbing his wand and muttering 'scourgify' frantically, but with spectacular inefficacy, at his hem and shoes.

"Oh stop doing that before you hurt yourself!" She exclaims, rolling her eyes. "You've never cleaned in your life, have you?" His neck flushes.

"And I suppose you can do better?"

"Naturally." She inspects the damage, flicks her wand and mutters some of her grandmother's favourite charms. By the time she is finished, his robes and shoes look almost new. "I am a descendant of Molly Weasley, mud will not be my end as it has been the end of many a Malfoy!" She declares. He snorts.

"Impressive," he says "you should be our cleaning lady."

"Oh hardy ha! A thank you would be nice."

"Thanks…" He says, rolling his eyes but then reaching for her "come here, I'll dry your hair."

His pale hand on her shoulder guides her towards him. He has grown so that he is now a few inches taller than she is. She tilts her head up and watches the look of concentration on his face as he casts a drying charm. Then he looks down at her. She suddenly notices how close they are. She takes a quick step back and makes a strange nervous sound at the back of her throat.

"Uh… thanks." She says, tapping the base of her wand against her thigh and staring at his shoes. Her free hand attaches itself to her right elbow so that one arm presses into her chest, making her feel slightly less vulnerable. The awkwardness refuses to go away.

"Rose." His voice is strangely uncertain; all the comfortable familiarity of three years of friendship has disappeared. She swallows.

"Yeah"

"Could I, maybe… try something?" She looks up at him.

"Um… what?" She asks hesitantly. He is tense, which makes his already lanky teenage body look clumsier than usual; like he's wearing a body that's one size too big. It's unbearably endearing.

"I thought that… well… it's just that I kind of like you and I thought maybe you might kind of like me and that we could try kissing to see what it's like." The words tumble from his mouth so quickly that it takes her a moment to comprehend what he has said. Then her round blue eyes get rounder.

"Um…" She cannot think of what to say. Her brain has very possibly overheated and shut down. He is staring hard at the stone bathroom floor. They are in a boys' bathroom. Her brain latches swiftly onto that thought.

"Could we maybe… like, not in the boys bathroom?" She wants to bash her head against something for such an eloquent answer. He looks up at her though and his mouth quirks up.

"Upstairs?"

"Okay." It comes out shakier than she intended, but she makes a purposeful movement toward the door to make up for it.

The walk to Gryffindor tower is excruciatingly silent. They are careful to watch for the caretaker, but there is no sign of him and nothing else to distract them from their recent conversation. The majority of the castle is in the village so the passages are empty and the common room, when they finally reach it, all but deserted. They hesitate just inside the portrait hole and take in the second years playing gobstones in the corner and the girl reading on the couch. Then he grabs her hand and leads her up the boys' staircase.

She has been in their room a hundred times before but it seems all new. He tries to shove a damp towel and some dirty clothes under his bed inconspicuously with a foot, but catches her watching. All the delays are just giving her too much time to think… and thinking is really not helping at the moment. He sees her terrified expression and then collapses back onto his bed, hands over his face.

"This is really weird isn't it?" He asks through his hands. She stares at her feet.

"Yeah" She doesn't understand if he does or doesn't want to kiss her anymore. The uncertainty stings. She wants to go back to the safety of Scorpius and Albus and Rose.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

"It's okay… I'll just…" She gestures towards the door and starts moving. He springs from the bed and reaches out to her.

"Rose, wait, I didn't mean…" She turns.

"Didn't mean what?"

"I still want to kiss you. I mean… do you still want to?" She cautiously looks up at him.

"I still want to."

They stare at each other for a moment. Then his hands come to rest on her waist. She has yet to develop curves; the narrow width of her seems fragile beneath his clumsy fingers. Her hands rest tentatively on his shoulders. There is still a good deal of space between them, so he leans forward and down at an awkward angle to press his lips against hers. He had closed his eyes before he got to her, so he is slightly off target, kissing the corner of her mouth.

She feels him shuffle in a little and move his lips against hers for a better fit. The way his open mouth smooths over hers leaves her lips tingling. She breaths in sharply and pulls away.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Uh-huh," She says, then giggles and hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, pulling him so that they are flush against one another. "It felt nice." She tells his neck. "I just don't really know how to do this. I haven't done it before."

"Me neither."

"Try again?"

He answers her with his mouth, a little more confidently this time. Her eyes slide shut and her arms go around his neck. Their noses sort of bump and she giggles into his mouth and its weird but she kind of likes it. She is just getting used to his lips on hers when his tongue tentatively laves her bottom lip. She pulls back a little to breathe, then looks up into his eyes for reassurance. He presses his forehead against hers and then whispers to her.

"You're really pretty Rose." The pink of her cheeks deepens.

She leans up to him and this time she opens her mouth too. She feels his tongue slide against hers and almost bites him in surprise.

"Shite, I'm sorry!" She gasps. His chest rumbles as he laughs. Then she is giggling too. They shuffle the few steps to his bed and collapse in a pile of laughter. They're both skinny; all elbows and knees, so they shift for a while until neither of them is being jabbed by inconvenient bones. Then they just lie together and Rose feels very safe.

"Hey Rosie?"

"Scorpius?"

"I'm really glad I did that with _you._"

"Me too."

They are silent for a while and Rose thinks.

"Scorpius?"

"Mmmm?"

"You know how Teddy and Victoire dated until last year?" She feels him nod against the top of her head. "Now they're all polite to each other when they both come to one of our birthdays."

"Okay…" He says, not quite understanding why this is relevant to him.

"I don't want to be like that. You're my best friend."

"You're mine too."

"Maybe we shouldn't kiss for a while." She suggests. "So that we don't end up like Teddy and Victoire."

"We're not going to end up like Teddy and Victoire."

"But it was really strange when we were walking here and I didn't like it… so just in case, okay?"

"… okay." He agrees reluctantly.

"Just for a little while." She assures him.

"You still _want_ to kiss me though right?" He asks.

"Still." She props herself up, kisses his cheek and then sits up and crosses her legs. "Want to play snap until Al gets back?"

**AN:**Thoughts please? Thank you!


	2. Summer between 3rd and 4th year

**AN:** Finally found this chapter amid piles of paper on my desk… It's a short one, I'm trying not to grow them up too fast, but it's hard!

**Chapter 2: Summer between 3****rd**** and 4****th**** years**

They don't talk about what happened but it lies between them. It's in the way she sometimes finds herself staring at his shirt clinging to his chest when he's bending over a boiling cauldron. It's in his fascination with touching her. He'll use any excuse really. He'll bump his shoulder against hers when he's teasing her. He'll graze her fingers when he's passing the potatoes. He'll run up to her when they're out in the grounds, throw her over his shoulder and spin her until she's nauseous. He'll slump down right next to her on a couch, so that they're touching from shoulders to toes, and then read as if he can concentrate on anything but her. Technically they're friendly gestures, but she has become hyper aware of them.

In the summer between third and fourth she braves inviting him to the house. He had spent a few weeks with the Potters the previous summer, but had yet to set foot in Ronald Weasley's house. Her father seems to be resigned to a Malfoy's presence in his daughter life in theory (due to much scolding and possibly shrieking on her mother's part) but facing the reality of the 'friendship' is likely to be a different story. Rose decides that the best way to do it is to invite the Potters round while Scorpius is staying with them. She conspires with her mother to make this happen. Hermione's private suspicions make getting her husband to tolerate Scorpius a priority.

Rose watches from the landing as her father opens the door to greet the Potters and Scorpius. Her heart hammers. It feels like an important moment, though she won't admit why, even to herself. Her father dutifully holds a hand out to Scorpius and her breath whooshes out of her in relief. In another minute her father is deep in conversation with Uncle Harry and Scorpius is all but forgotten. She runs down the stairs grinning broadly. She hasn't seen him in over a month while he's been on holiday in France. She pulls him into a tight hug as soon as she reaches him. He's grown so she has to stand on tip-toe to hug him properly.

"You look nice." He tells her when they finally separate. She blushes and smooths the skirt of her dress. It's new and her mother had said that the blue in it brought out the blue of her eyes. She likes how the soft material accentuates her slim waist and the slight curve of her breasts. She wonders if he's noticed.

Al cuts off their staring competition with talk of the upcoming trip to Diagon and soon they are absorbed in general pre-dinner conversation. Once Scorpius and Al are safely ensconced in the lounge, with Aunt Ginny keeping a watchful eye on her father, Rose drops into the kitchen to offer help. She pauses just outside the doorway when she hears Uncle Harry's voice and inadvertently becomes an eavesdropper.

"… was shaking like a leaf when we left, Hermione, if I didn't feel so sorry for the kid I would've wet myself laughing. At one point I think he was actually wearing full formal dress robes. Before we left Lily came huffing down the stairs complaining about Scorpius hogging the bathroom, so I go up to see what's what and there are dress robes flung across the wash basket, three different ties in the sink and Scorpius slicking his hair so far back that you can barely tell he has any."

"Poor Child" Her mum says, clicking her tongue and stirring her pasta sauce, "Why Ron must insist on rehashing old rivalries I don't know. I take it you convinced him he didn't need a tie?"

"Well I walked in, and he looked up at me in the mirror and then said 'he's going to hate me, isn't he?' in this despairing tone. Dunno how I kept a straight face. He's usually a cocky one. You should have seen him the first time he beat Al at an Xbox game! Anyway, so I tell him to lose the tie and maybe find something red to wear, and then I get hold of his hair and give it a good muss. Boy he was put out. So I sit myself down on the edge of the bath and just tell him straight that the best thing he can do to impress Ron is to look as little like his Dad as humanly possible. Took three scourgify's to get all the gel out of his hair!" Harry laughs.

"Harry! How would you like being told to look as little like your Dad as possible?"

"He took it quite well actually. Better than Ron'll take the news of the imminent engagement anyway…"

Having heard quite enough Rose stumbled away from more startling revelations and towards the lounge. She finds her father and the boy in question embroiled in a heated chess game. Though Ron is clearly winning, Scorpius is holding his own quite admirably.

"They've been at it a while" Aunt Ginny tells her "I think your Dad might even be a little impressed."

Rose is not quite sure how to deal with this new reality. A reality in which she feels the need to introduce a boy to her father and the boy feels the need to impress him. She feels as though they are slowly building something much, _much_ larger than she can comprehend. But she can't seem to stop laying bricks, even though the thought of the end product is frightening to contemplate. They're not following a plan, there is no design, but they are perfectly in sync and she has no doubt that they will build this thing right. She's only afraid that if they go too fast it will all fall down on top of them.

**AN: **Special thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter: whysosirius7, pocahontas98, ALIASTESIN, Azure, pinklongbottom and MRSCharmander. I really appreciated the feedback! You are all fabulous for taking the time to leave it!


	3. Fourth Year

**AN: **Hope you enjoy this! The feedback I've received has really helped me to stay excited about this story! The next chapter will be up next week… Also, I've upped the rating a little due to a tiny bit of swearing.

**Chapter 3: Fourth Year**

For the first term of fourth year they are in a holding pattern. They visit Hogsmead with Al, play exploding snap in the common room and bicker over group homework assignments. But Scorpius begins to feel the strain of clinging to what was normal two years before when they have outgrown it. Something has to change eventually.

He sees the way other boys are starting to look at her. She is tall and willowy with subtle curves that are easily lost in school robes, but all too obvious in her form fitting duelling uniform. Joining Professor Longbottom's duelling club had been his idea, but he regrets it as he watches Rose laugh with O'Brian after winning their gruelling 10 minute showdown.

"That was some quick wand work Weasley." O'Brian tells her.

"Thanks" She replies, smiling cheekily at him.

"What was that hex you used right before you disarmed me?"

"Phobios?"

"It barely grazed me and I was suddenly filled with inexplicable terror."

"Barely grazed you? I have better aim than that."

"Where'd you learn it?"

"Are you, Demetri O'Brian, asking me to give away the secret to my signature move?" She asked flirtatiously.

"A fair exchange, I think, for demolishing my reputation with a flick of your wand." Scorpius almost loses his dinner when he witnesses O'Brian attempting a roguish wink.

"I shall make my reparations by teaching you the correct wand movement for your shield charm."

"She injures me even as she tries to patch my battle wounds!" He pronounces to the rest of the room. Scorpius is sure he is now the only one who is listening, but the showmanship of this boy is grating. Who does he think he is?

Rose just laughs and begins to demonstrate the correct wand movement for a basic shield. After a few minutes of (feigned) poor wand work Rose is pressed close to O'Brian, gripping his hand over his wand to move it for him. Rose can't see his facial expression but O'Brian is smirking like a fool. Scorpius decides it's past time to break up their tête-à-tête.

He walks towards them, eyes fixed firmly on Rose. She takes a self-conscious step backward when she catches sight of him. He raises an eyebrow.

"We're supposed to meet Al in the library at eight." She stiffens at his hard tone, unsoftened as it is by the usual nicknames, and narrows her eyes slightly.

"Go on without me, I'll come up when I'm done."

They stare each other down for a stretched moment before he spins on his heel and strides from the room. She turns back to O'Brian, but all the flirt and fun has drained from her. His sloppy wand work disappears quickly.

They ignore each other through their study session with Al, who becomes frustrated with their lack of focus. He abandons them to flirt with James's new girlfriend in an effort to provoke James. As soon as they're alone at the table Rose throws down her quill and folds her arms across her chest, a classic Rose battle pose.

"What shitty flavour bean is that then?" She demands. This is Potter/Weasley slang for 'your facial expression is unacceptable to me.'

"It's the same flavour you're eating, if I were to hazard a guess." She hates how superior he becomes when he's angry.

"Just spit it out!"

"The bean, or the supposed problem?"

"Merlin, you're a prat!"

"Yes, I am, and I'm done with runes." He spits, shoving parchment and books carelessly into his bag.

"You'll get detention if Babbling checks homework tomorrow."

"I'll take the detention. Filch is better company than you are anyway."

"Fine! Piss the professor off. I don't care. I'll be glad to be rid of you!" She hisses. "But don't you pretend that this is somehow my fault! I've done _nothing_ wrong!"

He slings his bag over his shoulder and turns away but then pauses. When he speaks it is to the runes shelves rather than to her.

"I think we should date other people." Then he walks.

They don't speak for three days. Al is under the impression that it is because Rose blames Scorpius for their low potions project mark. At the end of day three Rose corners him in the charms corridor before dinner. His defences are terribly low due to hunger and the fact that her robes are unbuttoned, revealing the dipping v-neck of the cardigan she wears beneath them. He sighs and tries to walk by.

"Not now Weasley." She ignores him and grabs his arm.

"I'm trying to tell you that you were right."

He stops trying to detach her fingers from his forearm and looks up at her.

"Excuse me?"

"You were right." She repeats with no hostility. He finds this very confusing. His eyes narrow.

"About what exactly?" This is some kind of trap and he is about to fall strait into it.

"You know, about dating other people." She says earnestly. Then he realises this is not a trap. This is decidedly, terribly, ridiculously not a trap. Although that's not entirely accurate is it? It's his trap and he's tripped right into it.

She was supposed to object to the suggestion. She was supposed to feel as… as… _whatever_ as he had felt when she was flirting with O'Brian. She was not supposed to agree. Merlin. This was what came of leaving such an idea free to run rampant in her convoluted mind. She's still talking and he can't think what more she could possibly have to say.

"… Victoire, we may as well date other people right?" He wants to go back in time and castrate Teddy Lupin before he ever lays a finger on Victoire Weasley.

"It'll be good for us. We'll get all the fighting and the breaking up and mistakes out of our systems. We'll practise on disposable people." Can she even hear herself? Disposable people? But she has that matter-of-fact tone in her voice that's telling him everything he needs to know. She is perfectly serious. His pride will not allow him to beg this woman-child to have him.

"Fine, it was my idea in the first place, let's date other people." He says, resigned, and then begins to trudge toward dinner.

"Hey Scorpius?" He looks over his shoulder at her. "You still want to kiss me though right?" The corner of his mouth tugs itself up into a sardonic smile.

"Still."

**End Note:** They were a little more grown up in this one and I'm a bit nervous about it. Please let me know what you thought! Special thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter: peacock33, ALIASTESIN, KnockturnSeller, youcunt and pinklongbottom.


	4. Summer between 4th and 5th year

**Disclaimer:** The painting 'The Tempest' by Peder Balke and The National Art Gallery in London are not mine… I am simply borrowing the idea of them and would recommend you visit them if you ever get the chance.

**Chapter 4: Summer between 4th and 5th years**

He finds her barricaded into the last carriage on the train, only the curly disarray of her hair visible through the glass pane in the door.

"If you're making out with Abbott in there stop now… I'm coming in." He calls. Something doesn't feel right though. She always waits for him and Al before finding a carriage. He mutters the counters to all of her favourite locking spells and tries the door. It gives slightly but he feels something heavy shift on the other side. She has blocked the door with her trunk.

"Rosie… are you alright?" He asks through the small opening he has created. There is no response.

"Rose, could you let me in please?" Still no response. "Rose, I will blast your trunk to bits if I need to!"

"m fine, just leave me be for a bit, yeah?" Her voice is shaky.

"Nope, sorry love, I'm coming in. Get away from the door." He pokes his wand and hand through the opening and vanishes her trunk, tumbling through the door he is leaning on when there is no longer an obstruction.

She is curled up in one corner of the carriage crying. Her face turns up to look at him as he rights himself and it is pitifully tear streaked. He narrows his eyes as he regards her and draws a few swift conclusions.

"Right," He says, brushing off his robes, "I'm going to flay Abbott." He turns to march from the carriage.

"'s not his fault." Rose tells him miserably.

"Well then who did this to you?" He demands.

"N-no one." She sniffles and a fresh wave of tears flow down her already damp, red cheeks. He takes a deep breath and tries to remain calm. Seeing Rose this way makes him want to tear people limb from limb. He waits until he can question her with a steady voice.

"Why are you crying, Rose?" She wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her robes, sniffs and swallows.

"We broke up!" The thought seems to be too much for her and her face crumples.

"That… that…" For a few moments words utterly fail him. "That snot-nosed, spineless git broke up with you?" Flaying will be happening… he'll get Al and Louis to hold him down. He's pretty sure he can convince Lily to dance gleefully around them hurling insults while they peel Abbott's skin off too. They'll turn it into a kind of pagan ritual that will be an example for every boyfriend still to come…

"I broke up with him." Rose replies. His brain pauses.

"What?" He asks.

"It was me… I broke up with him." She tells him tearfully.

"I'm sorry, let me get this straight. You're crying because you dumped someone?" He feels as though he has been confounded. Truly, she never made an ounce of sense.

"It was horrible! You should have seen his face… he was so hurt! I feel like a horrible person!" At this point Scorpius begins to laugh. She throws a shoe at him. He dodges it easily.

"I'll be with the rest of your family when you get over your terrible loss!" He calls jovially over his shoulder as he makes his way back to the front of the train.

* * *

Rose, having forgiven Scorpius for his decidedly unsympathetic behaviour on the Hogwarts express (upon the reception of a cluster of violets from his mother's garden), decides that Scorpius is ready to attend a family quidditch outing.

Unfortunately Ron Weasley, subsequent to deciding to like one of his daughters friends based on an arbitrary criterion (such as their ability to play chess), has a unique ability to embarrass himself, others, and most especially his daughter when interacting with said friend. Rose reflects on this talent with some bitterness as she sits in the Harpies family box attempting to watch her aunt play. Instead she finds herself watching her father, in orange from head to toe, screaming at the referee and lambasting Scorpius and Uncle Percy for their support of the Harpies beaters. Teddy, who is sitting next to her, follows her eye line and smiles knowingly.

"Don't worry; your dad won't scare him off that easily."

"Are you watching the same Ron Weasley as I'm watching?" She mutters, turning a deep shade of red and then trying to change the subject. "The reserve that's in for Crawley isn't bad, is she?"

"That's Victoria Chang, she was in my year at Hogwarts… bloody single handedly crushed our team in the house cup finals in seventh."

"Where has she been since then?"

"American league I think." Teddy replies distractedly. "Say, why has Scorpius been giving me the stink-eye? Tried to crush my hand when we said hello and I begin to fear he's going to set my hair alight with wandless magic." He gestures towards Scorpius who is indeed glowering in their direction.

"He's probably just upset with me for abandoning him with my father. I'd better go remedy that." She sidles past various family members, trying not to spill her Butterbeer, until she gets to Scorpius.

"Will you quit it? Teddy thinks you're trying to set his hair on fire." She has a pretty good idea what this is about. She sighs. Victoire hadn't received the warmest greeting from Scorpius either.

"He's a smart man." Scorpius replies. Rose chucks a couple of peanuts at him in affectionate frustration and then grabs his hand.

"I need a refill on my Butterbeer, keep me company in the queue?" Scorpius rolls his eyes as she hauls him towards the door.

"Heaven forbid you go on your own! Sometimes you're such a girl."

"It's the drinks tent, not the loo. Besides, aren't I a prettier sight than that?" She gestures towards her father who is half way out of the box insulting passing players. This is why her mother insists on sitting in the ministry box.

"Fair point."

Half way to their destination they run into Alice Longbottom and a few of her friends. Rose, engaged in animated conversation with Alice, barely notices what Scorpius is up to until Alice makes a move to leave. She turns to look for her partner in crime and finds him chatting up one of Alice's hangers-on. Rose just catches him promising to owl her about coffee before the girl is drawn away by her friends.

"You don't waste any time do you?" She asks him, eyebrow raised. "Didn't you just break up with Alessandra?"

"Your point being?"

"You're chewing them up and spitting them out awfully fast."

"Rosie, it's a coffee date, not a marriage proposal."

"Well, they have feelings you know."

"So did George Abbott." He counters.

"Low blow!" She replies accusingly.

"I'm only teasing." He says, slinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her in the right direction.

They finally find the drinks line and she perches on a rail, arm across his shoulders for balance. His arm slides around her waist and a feeling of contentment washes through her.

"We could change our minds about the dating thing you know." He says quietly. She turns to look at him, searching his face and eyes.

"I know." She replies.

They stare at each for a while longer. The line starts to move forward.

"I'd rather screw up with George Abbott than with you though." She puts her hands on his shoulders, drops a quick peck on his cheek and then hops down and moves with the queue.

* * *

Her mum likes to take her somewhere in muggle London at least once a holiday. It has become something of a tradition and, though at first she complained about it, she now enjoys their rambles through parks and museums more than she is willing to admit.

They are meandering through the National Art Gallery when she sees the painting. It's called 'The Tempest'. It's a tiny oil painting, by an artist she's never heard of, in black, white and grey, depicting a storm tossed ocean. She can't decide why, but it's Scorpius through and through. She stands, mesmerised by the movement, the passion and the pain all captured so hauntingly on a tiny block of wood.

Her mother's hand waves between her face and the painting and she is pulled from her thoughts.

"Are you alright Rose?" She asks.

"Yeah… why?"

"Well, you've been staring at that painting for almost ten minutes. I got two rooms down before I realised you weren't following me anymore!"

"It's just really beautiful, you know?" She says, tearing herself reluctantly away. "I don't know why Dad thinks pictures that can't talk are so boring."

" I've known him for a quarter of a century, but sometimes your father makes as little sense to me as he did on the first day I met him." Her mother replies, amused. "Come on then, I'm desperately in need of some tea!"

They walk across Trafalgar square to an overpriced tea shop, where they eat custard slices and drink tea that's not half as good as Molly Weasley's but costs more than what most Central African families make in a week.

"Mum," Rose starts, self-consciously studying the inside of her tea cup, "when did you know Dad was the one you wanted to be with _forever_?"

"Hmmm… well I suppose I liked him from very early on." Hermione responded, thinking. "Probably from around third or fourth year. I can remember feeling terribly hurt that he only considered me 'date' material at the very last moment before the Yule Ball. So I definitely had feelings for him then, even if I wouldn't admit it to myself. But we were awfully pig-headed about the whole thing…" Her mother wore a faraway look and a wry smile. After a moment her attention snapped back to her daughter.

"I suppose, to answer your question, I knew I would be with him forever in our seventh year. You know the story… the Horcrux had an especially terrible effect on him, it brought all his darkest thoughts, fears and personality traits to the surface. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and he left us. I would rather relive the battle of Hogwarts than those weeks in that tent without Ron. When he came back, I knew."

"But _how_ did you know?"

"Your father and I were the best friends of Harry Potter from the age of eleven. I grew up with him. We figured out Hogwarts together, ate meals together and did detention together. I learnt what friendship and bravery and sacrifice meant with him. We followed Harry into every conceivable dangerous situation the magical world had to offer. By the time I realised it was forever I had seen all of his weaknesses, all of his faults, all the dark things that people keep locked inside of themselves. And none of them scared me as much as the thought of being without him."

"So what you're saying is the only way to really get to know someone is to fight a war with them? Or to stick a piece of Voldemort's soul around their neck and watch how they react?" Her mother's eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"Don't reduce a war into a litmus test for love. It's disrespectful." Rose looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Her mother replied, her tone firm, but gentler now. "You'll figure it out your own way my Rose. I only hope your way is less painful than mine."

**AN: **Sorry for the late update, work has been crazy, I found this chapter particularly difficult to write and I was a little discouraged by the lack of response to the last chapter. Please drop me a line and tell me that you like it or hate it, or have any feeling towards it whatsoever. Believing the reading community is largely apathetic is killing my motivation!

Special thanks to: peacock33, youcunt and pocahontas98 for taking the time to review!


	5. Fifth Year

**Disclaimer:** I do not _ever_, under any circumstances, think it is alright to call a woman a whore… however Rose had her own ideas in this chapter and was feeling rather persecuted. Also she's fifteen and is therefore rather less careful with her words then, for example, her mother might be.

**Chapter 4: Fifth Year**

Dating other people is, frankly, confusing. Not only does it mean that he must constantly strive to control the overwhelming jealousy he feels whenever he sees her with any male that is not a member of her family, it also means that he must strive to keep up with her serial monogamy. Why he feels the need to keep score he cannot say. He only knows that if she will insist on driving him to the brink of insanity, he will return the favour. Problematically he cannot think of the string of girls he flirts with or snogs or takes to Madame Puddifoot's as anything but place holders. Nevertheless he becomes expert at flirty small talk and gets to know the ins and outs of the Hogwarts broom closets rather well.

He happens to be dating Chelsea Hopkins at the beginning of fifth year while Rose is between 'disposables'. Chelsea is a sixth year Ravenclaw with long blonde hair and a perfect hourglass figure. She has made him the envy of every male in his year and has therefore lasted longer than previous attachments. He is walking her to her seat at the Ravenclaw table with his arm slung across her shoulders when Rose's voice cuts into their Transfiguration discussion.

"Hey Malfoy!" He turns his head, looking past Chelsea to Rose. She sits in a sea of red but he picks her out and recognises the look of mischief on her face immediately. Her chin tilts and her eyebrow arches in challenge as she addresses a single questioning word to him.

"Still?"

The corner of his mouth tugs up to match hers involuntarily. There is a space of some moments in which Chelsea and the sea of Weasley cousins cease to exist and Scorpius tries to test how long he can go without answering her. Rose's smile never falters, in fact it seems to grow with every second she is the focus of his attention.

"Still." He replies at last, turning away from her so that he does not witness the Cheshire cat grin that is due to make an appearance on her face any second.

Chelsea is making bewildered inquiries but he doesn't hear her. Instead he hears Dominique Weasley of the Weasley Inquisition.

"Rose Henrietta Weasley, do explain what that little showdown was about. Immediately."

"I was just asking Scorpius if we're still on for Charms practise tonight." Rose replies in her most innocent voice; the one she only uses when she is one hundred percent guilty.

"If that was about Charms I'm a blast-ended screwt. You, my rosiest of Roses, were marking your territory!"

The rest of the conversation is unfortunately lost to him, as even Dom's sonorous voice cannot carry far in the Dining Hall at lunch time, but he is left with a smug sense of victory nonetheless.

They find a temporary equilibrium afterwards. They are friends, they laugh and tease and flirt, they fight a little and study together a lot and almost perfect the art of dancing around each other by using 'still' as a kind of touchstone.

"Do you still want to study for Transfiguration tonight?"

"Do you still have that library book out?"

"Why are you still wearing that hideous scarf?"

"Why are you still wearing that hideous face?"

"Are we still on for Zonko's this Saturday?"

"Are you still dating Eileen Jones?"

"Do you still like Puddlemere for the cup this year?"

"Are you still going to duelling this evening?"

And always the answer is 'still'; a word that encompasses so many affirmatives. Yes, I still want to kiss you. Yes, the boy whose hand I'm holding is still just a placeholder. Yes, when she rests her head on my shoulder I think about you. Yes, I still belong to you and you still belong to me. Still is a balm for all jealousy and insecurity for almost all of fifth year… right up until Brendan Adams makes his entrance.

He's an arsehole; a seventh year Gryffindor quidditch player with a sparkling smile and an ego larger than Slughorn's belly. Scorpius cannot stand him from the start. A feeling of general animosity is to be expected with all of Rose's flames. The need to outdo them in classes and clubs and the urge to Jinx them from behind suits of armour are also not unusual. Adams saunters right past animosity and into all-encompassing hatred when he swats Rose on the behind in front of Scorpius before their first date. Rose gazing up into his face as if star struck does not particularly help his case either.

Two weeks into their 'thing' (apparently they're 'together' and 'don't need labels') Scorpius overhears a rather odious conversation on his way to check on his Herbology project. Adams is sitting behind the greenhouses with a couple of the Hufflepuff quidditch players. He is making crude gestures with his grimy hands and describing, in great detail, how Rose looks naked. The surrounding boys heckle and cheer alternately, driving Adams to ever more graphic detail.

In his rage Scorpius completely forgets he owns a wand. He pushes through the huddle of boys, drags Adams forward by his lapels, draws his arm back and then rams his fist into that smarmy pretty boy face. The feel of flesh and bone beneath his knuckles is momentarily satisfying and then just really bloody sore. Adams clutches at his face, spitting swear words and tries to hit Scorpius back. His rather hampered attempts are rebuffed and he is felled by a merciless knee to the groin. Scorpius steps over the writhing figure, shaking his right hand, and makes for the History corridor, Herbology project forgotten.

He lurks in an empty classroom until he hears the rumblings of her class packing up. They spill out of the classroom, all in a rather sleepy daze, and begin to meander towards dinner. He strides up to her, takes hold of her elbow and begins to purposefully steer her in the opposite direction.

"Scorpius? What's going on?" He ignores her, continuing to drag her towards a hideous tapestry depicting her parents and Harry Potter camping in the Scotch countryside. He yanks the monstrosity aside, opens the door behind it and waves a hand for her to enter. She finds herself in a small study. He shuts the door firmly behind them and then rounds on her.

"Are you sleeping with Brendan Adams?" He demands. She stares at him in shocked silence as her brain struggles to switch on and accept what he has just said to her. She slowly turns a glowing scarlet.

"What?"

"Brendan Adams. Are you screwing him?"

"How dare you ask me such a question?" She spits, stalking towards him, index finger at the ready. "As if my sex life is any of your business." She pokes him in the chest and continues to advance, forcing him backward. "And what kind of… of… Scarlett Woman do you take me for?" Poke, poke. "We've been on two bloody dates!"

"So that's a no then?" He feels considerably calmer in spite of the fact that she is still jabbing her finger into his chest at regular intervals.

"I'm going to wring your neck you infuriating prat!" He grabs her hands before she can try.

"You didn't let him see you naked did you?" Rose emits a rather terrifying sound, a scream that she is refusing to allow past her lips. Then she kicks his shin. He hops about on one leg plotting Adams's demise.

"I'm going to pull his entrails out through his nostrils and then gag him with his large intestine. I'm going to tie him to the goal posts and let the bludgers loose on him. I'm going to…"

"…explain your shocking bad manners immediately?" Her arms were crossed and the expression on her face was a dangerous one. Her wand had migrated from her pocket into her hand.

"Don't even try getting testy with me. Your prat of a boyfriend is the one describing you naked to anyone who'll listen!"

"Which led to you believe that I'm sleeping with him?" Her words are harsh and rushed, as if it angers her that they are passing her lips. He begins to get the sense that things are going awry.

"Which led me to consider the possibility." He huffs.

"Which naturally led you to dragging me in here and calling me a whore?"

"I did no such thing!"

"You implied it!" She growls, glaring at him.

"You know I don't think that about you."

"You're just considering the possibility?" The sarcasm in her voice is still sharp, but she physically withdraws; no more poking or advancing. Her anger is so much easier to handle than her hurt.

"Rosie, I didn't mean it like that, I swear."

"Well it certainly sounded as if you did."

"I was angry and jealous and I just saw red. I'm an idiot." He says quietly, drawing closer to her and smoothing his hands up and down her arms. His face is tilted down towards hers but she's determinedly studying their feet.

"You thought I slept with someone else."

"I didn't think Rose. I promise you, if I had stopped to think I would have known better." There is a long uncomfortable silence. He feels like a prisoner waiting for his sentence to be handed down.

"Is this because you're sleeping with someone else?"

"No!"

"You were awfully quick to jump to conclusions Scorpius… and well, Chelsea Hopkins? Who would blame you?" Her voice has gone flat and tired. He inches even closer to her and brings his hands up to frame her face. He tilts her chin so she's looking at him.

"I do not want to do that with anyone but you." He refuses to break eye contact, staring down at her until he knows she believes what he's told her. Then her head tilts ever-so-slightly into a nod and she melts into him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. Her tears are silent but he feels them soaking the collar of his shirt. He holds her tighter and whispers platitudes into her hair. One of his hands runs soothingly up and down her back and as he waits for her to cry herself out he wonders how the hell he managed to rescue this one. He shudders as he thinks of the few moments when he felt her slipping away.

She pulls back and then takes a step away from him, sniffing and swiping at her eyes.

"Merlin, I'm a mess." She says, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. He reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"You're beautiful."

He steps closer and presses his lips to her forehead. Her eyes close and she sighs softly. His head dips and he kisses her eyelids. He traces his nose down the line of hers and rests his forehead against hers. His half lidded eyes gaze into hers, gently seeking permission. She tilts her head and gently brushes his mouth with hers.

* * *

**AN: **Sorry that this took a while. I've been moving and have no internet at home at the moment. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd really appreciate feedback… seriously, why the silence?

Thank you to: demoninthenight; peacock33, youcunt and my anonymous reviewer! You guys are awesome!


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